Talk Show On Mute
by euphiiie
Summary: And the whole time, he's trying to figure out what made him lose his voice. : au, marioxluigi incest, multichap, dark themes :
1. Delicate

C h a p t e r / O n e

( Delicate )

* * *

It's around five in the morning when Luigi hears the sound of the door slowly creaking open. Luigi's sleepy blue eyes snap open, the only thing in his line of vision being the wall with the chipped paint and the faint stain of bloody finger prints from a time he wishes he could forget. Besides wishing that Mario would stop drinking, he wishes that he could sleep peacefully. Even if it were for just one night. And yeah, he knows that's weird, but he'd be extremely grateful he could sleep the whole night through. The last thing he wants is bags under his eyes. _Well, there better then black eyes._ He hears the floorboards squeak, is Mario tip-toeing? Why is he _tip-toeing_? He doesn't even need to be sneaky, the reek smell of whiskey can give anyone away. The smell becomes alot stronger and he knows that means that Mario's getting closer, he cowers underneath the duvet comforter, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Luigi," He coos softly and it makes Luigi wince, he hates the way that he says his name. It sounds sweet, but it's really just laced with venom. Mario lets out a breathless chuckle, his steps alot more heavy now. Every _thump thump thump _that goes through the floor arises into the bed and makes tiny little vibrations that make Luigi feel like he's getting _smaller _and _smaller._ Inferior. "Weegee." He sing songs and Luigi wants nothing more then to punch Mario in the gut and make a run to the front door. But he knows that would be a foolish thing to do, considering he's tried that once and he definitely learned his lesson. The burn marks from his cigarettes are still on his arms and thighs, they still sting. Mario extends his arm out and reaches towards Luigi, but he squirms away until his back touches the wall and the blanket has tangled his legs together and that makes Luigi nervous.

"I don't...want to." Luigi says, trying to sound strong, but instead his tongue trips all over his words and it comes out like a weak whimper. Mario laughs, like he thinks that he's just joking and that he actually loves Mario and that maybe he does want to take his clothes off and invite him into bed. But those are just constant lies that swim in his head while he violates Luigi over and over and he breaks his spirit completely. "Please, go away." The piteous voice faltered as it thinned and eventually died when it could no longer find the strength to beg anymore, Mario reaches for Luigi again, this time being able to latch onto the collar of Luigi's shirt. He pulls him closer, his face a few inches away from Luigi's, the smell of whiskey is disgusting. Luigi hates alcohol.

"Yes you do, you always want to." Mario says like it's a fact and it's not true, if Luigi did want this, he would just throw himself on Mario. But he isn't, which just proves how much Luigi doesn't want this. Mario's hand starts stroking Luigi's cheek and strangely enough, it feels _nice. _Nice? Really? That's not something Luigi usually thinks when Mario touches him, it's usually rough and painful. He's being sweet, but knowing Mario as well as Luigi does, he knows this isn't going to last very long. His finger slides down from Luigi's cheek to the bottom of his shirt, pulling it up slowly, making Luigi shudder in disgust. "Your so soft, Luigi." He says, voice hoarse.

He then steps over Luigi, sitting on his lap, smiling like this is romantic. This isn't romantic, it's disgusting and wrong and Luigi wants to cry so badly right now. But crying just leads to pain, physical pain to be exact and Luigi is already in enough pain right now. Mario swoops down to Luigi's face and kisses him; it's soft and sweet but not at all matching what his hands are doing. Pinning Luigi's wrists and holding on to them so tightly, leaving bruises that Luigi's so thankful he has long sleeves to cover. Mario moans into Luigi's mouth and his hand is slowly trailing down to his nether regions, a place where he doesn't not belong, but he'll never understand that. "So good.." Mario gasps as he pulls away and feverishly starts kissing Luigi's stomach.

Luigi sniffs quietly while Mario continues on with his bussiness, tears staining his pale cheeks and he wonders why Mario's doing this to him. Abusing the one he supossedly 'loves' so much. What did he do to deserve this? Did he do something so horribly wrong, so evil, so vile that some higher athority enflicted this horrible day-in-to-day-out punishment? Whatever. If this is the punishment, then it's working, Luigi is slowly losing the will to go on anymore.

"Oh Luigi," Mario coos softly, already having pulled down Luigi's pants down to his ankles, face flushed and panting heavily. Luigi moans softly in response, but not because he likes it, mostly because he can't really help it. All that rubbing feels good no matter what, even if you want it or you don't. Well, that might not be true for most, but for Luigi it definitely is.

"I love you, so so much."

Lair.

* * *

As much as you might think, Luigi doesn't hate Mario. And he's pretty sure that's not normal, as much as Mario hurts him, tortures him, you would think Luigi would despise Mario. But he doesn't. He loves Mario more then anything actually and he knows it's twisted. You don't have to tell him that, he's very much aware of it, he just wished he could hate him. But as much as he tries and as many reasons Mario keeps throwing at him, Luigi can't hate Mario. It's impossible. It's so sick and wrong, yet so impossible to hate his tormentor. After Mario is done breaking Luigi's spirit for the hundredth time (or maybe more then that, but whos counting?) he gets up and leaves, murmuring something underneath his rancid breath about more booze. Luigi turns his head to face the dresser, the clock, flashing green numbers embedding themselves into his corneas showed that it was seven o'clock in the morning, great. Another night ruined.

Luigi staggered to his feet, his thighs feeling sticky and he shudders, making a quick note to himself to take a shower immediatly after making Mario breakfast. He wanders over to the living room slowly, turning his head to look at a drunken Mario who's passed out on the couch. Luigi can't really help himself when he covers Mario's passed out body with a clean fleece blanket instead of the dirty blanket that's been lying in the corner where the spiders build their cobwebs. _Your too nice, dammit. _

Luigi shuffles back to the kitchen, not really sure what to make this time, Mario hates pancakes and waffles, so what does that leave? Cereal? No, Mario smacked him the last time, complaining about how Luigi 'can do better then to feed him this crap'. Funny, if he wanted something other then 'crap' then he should have cooked it himself, why waste food? Mario doesn't eat, he drinks and drinks, but he doesn't eat. But he should get started, he thinks, before Mario comes in and rages about being malnourished. Luigi hates his life, he really, really does. Luigi freezes up and his blood runs cold as he hears an ominous sound come from the living room.

"Hmph, Luigi?" Mario asks, voice hoarse, as he stomps towards the kitchen. Out of nervous habit, Luigi starts fidiling with random pots and pans that are laying about the kitchen, trying to make himself look busy. The older sibling stops at the doorway, leaning against it lazily, eyes narrowed at Luigi. "What are you doing?"

Luigi doesn't face him, instead he puts the ladle in the sink, even though it isn't dirty. "Cooking."

"That doesn't look like cooking."

Luigi responds with an intelligent. "Umm."

Mario steps forward, walking around the counter and takes the ladle from the sink slowly, Luigi watches it disappear from his line of vision. He turns to face Mario, because he knows how mad he gets if Mario thinks that Luigi isn't listening to him. In the meantime, Luigi tries to look guilty. His eyes are wide and look sad, even though he doesn't feel the least bit guilty. Mario rises the ladle up, in a threatening manner and Luigi never thought he would be afraid of a ladle in his entire life.

"Umm?" Mario mimics, whirling the ladel between his fingers. "Are you sure?"

Luigi doesn't understand the question, he just stares at Mario, blinking dumbly. Completely inarticulate. It happened all so quickly, the way the ladle was risen and the way it collided with the side of Luigi's jaw, his head snaps back as he stumbles backward and hits the wall. He makes an odd noise out of intense pain, he hears Mario laugh while blood sloshes out of the side of his mouth and creates a red pool at Mario's feet.

"Luigi!" Mario cries out, in fake disstress. "You got blood on my shoes!"

Luigi lets out a loud wail in response.

"Oh Weegee," Mario coos, a smug smirk spreading across his face. "Your so delicate, I barely touched you!"

_Barely?_

Mario walks over, swaying a little as he does, the metal ladel hidden behind his back. Luigi cowers in the corner, crying and desperately trying to block the blood flow, Mario cups Luigi's chin and rises his head up to look at him.

"Aww, did that hurt?" He asks, in mock compassion. "There's some bandages in the bathroom, you should get some."

* * *

A/N: hello. :3 new story thingyy. its going to be incest sooo if you dont like that then dont wast your time reading this.


	2. Scare Tactics

C h a p t e r / T w o

( Scare Tactics )

Mario yawned, blue eyes opening ever so slowly, stretching right his arm out in the air. Luigi sits on the pale blue and acidic green tiled bathroom, obviously still hurt, considering Mario wasn't about to go to the hospital and risk someone finding out what really caused that jaw injury. Besides, the whole 'I ran into a door' excuse can only work so many times. Luigi sits on the floor idly, putting several bandages on the side of his mouth, a dazed look on his face making his movements look like those of a zombie. Mario sits idly in the tub, his legs hanging out from the side and his head against the back. He watches Luigi intently, slightly amused at the soft sobbing sounds that are escaping Luigi's bruised lips.

"You alright?" Mario asks, slightly monotoned as he fiddles with his gloved fingers. They were so _cold_ for some reason, the rims of his fingertips are stained with copper-red rust. Mario flexes his fingers in the air absently. "Your so cute when you cry." He adds, his expression softens and oddly enough, Luigi looks up at him to mumble a very weak 'Thank you'. Mario smiles and leans over to get up, Luigi looks up at him again, eyes brimming with resentment. Mario scoffs, leaning in closer and their faces are only a few inches away from each other. "Don't give me that, It's all your fault anyway." He then leans back, making an amused noise.

"My fault?" Luigi asks, forehead creasing with a frown and he can feel a huge spark of anger shoot up threw his body, he's surprised that his body can contain it. "How is it my fault? I didn't do anything!" Luigi yells, his voice starting off weak, but then rising several octaves. Luigi sees something flicker behind Mario's eyes, his genuine surprise of Luigi's defiance made Luigi feel confident for once. A hiss slowly realizes from Mario's parted lips, he smiles, demolishing that garb of pride Luigi had just fashioned. Right on cue, Luigi feels breathless, meek, and frail. Mario eyes his younger brother mischievously, grabbing Luigi's chin roughly and Luigi yelping out in pain.

"Watch your tone," Mario says, his voice calm and collected. Luigi mumers something unintelligible, his brain foggy with pain and his eyes stung. "I can do alot worse then just hurting your jaw."

Mario lets go of Luigi's chin and pushes him away, Luigi stumbles and is soon on his knees again, crying quietly. Mario mutters something in amusement and Luigi feels fingers delve into the hairs hanging out of the back of his hat. Mario's yanks his head back up and Luigi shrieks out in agony, wincing while his shoes scruff the tiles with stark white lines. Mario slams him right onto the ground again; this time in a sitting position. His lungs were on fire, it's almost like he forgot how to breathe, Mario steadies him from slumping forwards. Luigi chokes out a "Please.." but Mario just ignores it while he grips onto Luigi's shoulders tightly.

"Your so _stupid_." Mario hisses, pulling tightly on brunette locks and narrowing his eyes at Luigi. "You know better." Luigi squeaks in response, words stuck in his throat and his vocabulary becoming a complete mess, his words sounded like those of a drunk. Mario pulls harder, wanting Luigi's scalp to bleed, but all he's doing is plucking out tiny strands of brown locks. It doesn't really matter, it still hurts, everything_ hurts_, Luigi is beginning to see white spots at the corner of his eyes. He wishes that he could run or something, his leg hurts and crawling away wouldn't help at all considering that Mario's way faster then him.

A short gasp of pain fluttered from his mouth, Mario grins wickedly, moving away from Luigi and reaching for something in the open cabinet. His eyelids fluttered like butterflies, choking back fear as he sees the object that Mario pulls out. Scissors. A white light shines up the sharp end in the weird bathroom light, Luigi feels bile rise up in his throat, burning like acid. His nerve endings still on fire with so much pain, it looks like a lot more pain is coming. Luigi attempts to shift away from Mario's grasp, but his grip isn't getting any looser and the only thing going through Luigi's mind is how much he needs to get out of here.

"Shh, it's okay." He mummers, waving the scissors in front of Luigi's eyes and Luigi shrieks out in fear.

"Try to remember who your dealing with." Is the last thing he says, right before he lets go and Luigi's smacked down on his stomach to the dirty tiles again. And the only thing he can do is let out a slow whimper, followed by a shaky exhale. Fat drops of ruby-red falling and staining the floor.

* * *

"Want an omlette?" Mario asks, tone sweet and friendly, which is odd and not like him at all. It makes Luigi sort of happy that Mario made something that he didn't have to cook for once, he just hopes the omlette tastes good. Well, it is better then Mario throwing a ritz cracker at him and telling to stop his bitching. Luigi's ears perk up when he hears his stomach growl lowly, gosh, that omlette smells so good. But Mario cooked it, so that probably means he poisoned it or something, you can never be too careful in this house. Mario walks over to Luigi and pokes him with a fork childishly while sing-songing. "_It's good_."

Luigi staggers over to a chair at the dinning table that he hasn't eaten at in what feels like forever. Mario doesn't wait for him to respond, he slips the omlette on the chipped china plate that used to belong to their mother and Luigi's surprised that the plate is still here, considering all the unwanted memories that still sit with it. Luigi stares at the omlette intently, looking for anything odd and it seems like just a regular egg dish.

"What's in it?" Luigi asks, starving.

"Tomatoes, peppers, mushrooms." Mario says, walking back to the frying pan and the sound of siziling grease rings in Luigi's tired ears loudly. Mario turns around again to face Luigi, seeing that he hasn't touched it. "You should eat that." Mario adds, eyes narrowing at Luigi.

Luigi hesitates.

Mario picks up another fork that's on the table, holding it like you would hold something if you were going to stab someone to death. Quickly, Luigi slices a small corner of the omlette and places it on his mouth, involuntarily, he swallows. He looks up at Mario again, giving him an approving nod. Mario smiles and is pleased by Luigi's obedience, he puts the fork exactly the way it was on the table.

"Um, so what's the accasion?" Luigi squeaks nervously, hoping that Mario was in a better mood then he was in yesterday.

"Company," Mario says simply, rubbing the sponge against a fork slowly and a long pang of silence settles onto the room ominously. "So don't wreck anything for me, okay?"

Luigi stares at him in complete disbelief, how would Luigi ever embarrass him? Embarrassing is when you chug through ten whole bottles of vodka and dance on the table while singing 'Disco Inferno' with your pants off at your high school reunion. Luigi narrows his eyes at his omlette, pretending it's Mario's head while he stabs it violently with his fork.

It's going to be a long, long day.

* * *

A/N: Yayy second chappyy! :P


	3. Shock Treatment

C h a p t e r / T h r e e

( Shock Treatment )

* * *

Mario seems very happy, laying lazily on the couch as he's swirling whiskey while it's not in a glass but still in it's original bottle. Luigi stares at him from doorway of his bedroom, thinking that maybe if he just stays in his room that Mario will be too busy to notice him. It's a good thing his eyes are glued to that television or else he might have come over and done _things_, things that Luigi doesn't want to think about at all right now. He hopes that the mystery person will come visit soon, it will take up more 'Mario time' that he doesn't want and ever will. Luigi hears his older brother laugh at some stupid T.V show and he can see the blush from all the alcohol on Mario's cheeks very easily in the television light. How is Mario going to entertain a guest when he can't even walk straight? It's amazing how much he doesn't care, really. Luigi slides back very quietly into his room again, getting on the bed and letting his knees sink into the mattress. He makes a reminder to wash his sheets; he can still see those bright red stains.

Luigi's ears perk up in alarm when he hears heavy footsteps pacing slowly outside of his door, so much for staying unnoticed for so long, he thought the flashing colors of the television would be enough. It never is though, is it? Doesn't Mario get tired of coming into his room at night? Well, obviously not, considering he's still doing it. Dammit, Luigi hopes Mario will finally label him as 'dry' and 'overused' so this can just end. Or maybe he'll just drop dead one day, or maybe Mario will just drop dead one day. Luigi could go either way, although he prefers Mario dieing alot more. Okay, enough with being horribly dramatic, maybe Luigi can bolt the door before Mario decides to cause trouble again. No use, Luigi has nothing to block the door with. His room just consists of bed and until recently has been discovered to be occupied with rats.

"Luigi? Can I come in?" Mario asks, falsely sweet voice seeping through the bottom crack of the door as he jiggles the doorknob violently. It's so aggravating when he asks Luigi a question when Mario already knows damn well what the answer already is. Luigi expects Mario to knock the door down completely, the way he's ramming into it might happen. Luigi sits in his bed idly, not at all fazed by this, he's learned how to except things. "Please Weegee? Just for a few minutes." Mario adds, his foot ramming into the door and it shakes with a startling sound. Luigi sees the doorknob jiggle again, but he doesn't get up to open it. Luigi covers his ears and closes his eyes tightly. _Go away...._

No one ever hears his pleads, the door busts open anyway, almost hanging off the hinges and Luigi waits. Mario leans against the door jam, wobbling and his eyes practically burn into Luigi's, he sees Mario's empty whiskey bottle drop out of Mario's hand and roll underneath the bed. "You ignoring me?" Mario slurs, eyes glassy and finally pushing himself away from the door jam and walking over slowly to the bed, Luigi's breath becomes hitched. Luigi turns away from Mario's gaze, facing the wall and Mario's expression reads as hurt. "Are you mad at me? Weegee?" Mario asks, his deranged yet crushed eyes look over Luigi sorrowfully, he puts his hand on Luigi's shoulder.

"Please don't touch me." Luigi says, voice soft when he ment for it to sound demanding, he didn't even mean to say 'please' it just found it's way out of his brain and out of his mouth. As usual, Mario ceases to listen, hand creeping over and pulling off Luigi's overall strap slowly, leaving it hanging off his shoulder blade.

"I just wanted some time alone with you," Mario responds, rubbing at Luigi's back lovingly and it's not the type of love Luigi wants. "I'm in a romantic mood."

_Aren't you always?_

Mario sighs against the shell of Luigi's ear, fingers curling against the nape of his neck, kissing him softly. Luigi twitches in udder disgust, while Mario presses his lips a little harder against Luigi's, letting out a soft moan that Luigi had to strain his ears to hear. His lips venture to Luigi's neck, nibbling and licking the skin gently, Luigi wants to push him off and stab him. There's nothing sharp in his bedroom though, crap. "Luigi, I love you more then anything." Mario breathes, pulling back and his blue eyes burn into Luigi's. "You love me too right?" Luigi is quiet and he sure as hell won't respond to that, he wont say it, he refuses to. He'd rather die then say it. Mario doesn't wait, he presses his lips to Luigi's again and pushes his body onto the comforter. Luig's mind is screaming at him to do something, to fight, to scream, just _something_. He can't move.

After what feels like forever (which was actually just a few minutes), it seemed like Luigi's prayer was indeed answered, the door bell rang. It rung loud and clear and the look of pure dismay on Mario's face was priceless. He lifts himself away from Luigi slowly, pulling away with immense reluctance, while Luigi is restraining a smile. Mario's slow in his movements this time, thinking that maybe if he took long enough, the person outside would leave. The person outside rung the bell once, three, ten times and then proceeded to knock on the door. This ones impatient.

Thank goodness.

* * *

Whoever this girl is, she's beautiful, she's all dainty with her blonde locks falling along her shoulders. Pink dress tight in all the right places, but not in a perverted way, it just fits her figure nicely. _Your the worst lair ever, Luigi._ Luigi is very much weary of his older brothers eyes practically burning a huge hole in the back of his neck, he should be careful. Not like he isn't always cautious though, it's hard not to be, it's become more of a reflex. The blonde girl's pretty pink lips curve into a smile and her radiant blue eyes wander over to Mario first and then Luigi. A weird feeling lurches just beneath Luigi's bladder, he clutches his shirt tightly.

"This is Peach," Mario says, eyes still staring intensly and the air feels so thick all of a sudden. "So be nice okay?"

Luigi's face flushes a deep scarlet when Peach's gloved hand reached out to touch his in an attempt to perform a handshake. It doesn't work, since Luigi's very quick to pull his hand away and Peach's eyes widen for a second, feeling a little offended. Mario smiles, gesturing his hand towards the couch and Peach walks over to take a seat. She clasps her hands together, placing them on her lap and looking up at Mario patiently. Luigi squeaks a little when Mario shifts his glance from Peach to him.

"You know," Mario says softly, blue eyes narrowing. "It's rude to stare." Mario walks over to pat Luigi on the shoulder, then leaning on it while Luigi's face flushes a bright and noticeable shade of crimson. Peach giggles sweetly in response and Luigi hiccups nervously. "Now, I would like to be alone for a moment, so go to your room." Mario says simply and when Luigi opens his mouth to protest, Mario sends him a glare and Luigi's eyes fall to the floor. Embarrassed that he just got talked down to like a child.

Right before Luigi whirls around to walk back to his bedroom, Mario grabs his wrist roughly and Peach doesn't even noticed. She's to busy staring at some weird pastel painting of flowers and Luigi wants to scream and kick Mario in the shin.

He's frozen up again.

"Remember," Mario hisses, breath hot against the shell of Luigi's ear. "Only an hour before your all mine."

* * *

Luigi spends the hour entire hour, cowering in the dark corner of his room, with his knees pressed up to his chest and hands to his ankles. Mario most be thinking of something completely awful to do, Luigi digs his head into his knees at lets out low, squeaky sobs. He doesn't want to go through this again, not again, he needs to get out. Or something, anything. Why can't Luigi's brain ever get into gear at important times like this? Luigi doesn't get up when he hears footsteps, he doesn't look up when the door opens, no need too. He knows who it is. No more footsteps are heard, he's standing then, Luigi shakes a little. Mario's steps are heard wandering around before stopping in front of Luigi. He's humming that stupid song about some teapot and Luigi can't remember the songs name but that's really not important now, what is Mario planning on doing exactly?

He's probably wanting to finish were he last left off, considering his hands are creeping up underneath Luigi's shirt and kissing his neck again. Dammit, did Peach already leave? Why didn't she stay longer? Mario probably scared her off, or something. Dammit, if only she were still here, maybe she could save him. Well, not like she could, Mario's not easy to take down. Despite his shortness, he's not to be messed with, Luigi knows this by experience. Luigi shudders when he feels Mario's sickly tongue trail down his neck and swirl against his collarbone, it causes him to shove him away roughly while Luigi cringes against the wall. Instead of being pissed off, he smiles and that just sends sheer panic up Luigi's spine. He must be up to something terrible, he straddles himself up and Luigi can see him taking some _black rectangular thing_ out of his pocket.

_What the hell? _

Mario's still humming, still humming that stupid song about the that stupid teapot thing, why is he singing? It's so creepy and disjointed and off key, when Mario steps a little closer, Luigi finally sees what the strange object is, a taser. Your joking, right? Where did Mario manage to get that thing? Oh god, it looks like you done for Luigi. Luigi's eyes widen, quickly getting up and almost stumbling. He dashes for the door but somehow Mario's hand latches onto Luigi's ankle and he falls with a thud. Luigi yelps and whimpers and tries to crawl by digging his fingers in between the cracks in the floorboards but Mario drags him in roughly. "What? You want to leave me already?" Mario says, tone dripping with pure amusement at Luigi's distraught movements. "But I just got here."

_Who would want to stay?_

"Luigi," Mario hisses, voice in a whisper even thought they're the only two here, they're all alone. Luigi doesn't want to be alone with him, he's rather be alone with a bunch of huge man eating spiders, Luigi hates spiders. Even though, _anything_ is better then him. "Stand still." _No! _Luigi's mind screams, desperately squirming around and ends up knocking a chair over in the process. Mario picks Luigi up, throwing him onto the bed and pinning him down. Christ, he's too strong, it's not _fair_. "It's okay, it'll only hurt for a minute!" Mario says, smiling his deranged smile and laughing a little when Luigi squirms again. Mario's finger pushes a switch on the side of the taser, turning it on and the static buzzes in front of Luigi's scared eyes.

It's when he feels something sharp pressed against his chest and _tearing_ through his skin when everything in his line of vision fades to black.

* * *

crappiest ending ever.  
sorry. D:

love you.  
nina xx


	4. Truth Is What I Tell You

C h a p t e r / F o u r

( Truth Is What I Tell You )

* * *

Everything is blurry.

A stream of different colors and bright flashes flutter passed Luigi's droopy eyes, the room is spinning as Mario hoists him up the stairs and mumbles something along the lines of 'fun' things and to Mario, fun can mean one of two things. Neither of which would sound fun to anyone. Luigi can see the staircase in front of him and can hear a door opening, probably just going to Mario's bedroom so he can violate Luigi again? Dammit, he could have done it without drugging him first, he's done it without drugs before. He's probably thinking of something much, much worse. Not like getting electrocuted wasn't bad enough, but you know Mario, he loves to set the bar just a little higher then before.

"You feeling okay?" Mario asks, kicking the door open a little farther with his foot and Luigi doesn't answer, he doesn't have the energy too. "It's funny, you can buy that taser thingy anywhere actually." Luigi lets out a pained squeak in response, his eyes narrow, trying to get his vision to focus again. No use, everything looks like it's been smudged. Luigi is tossed onto the bed, landing on his stomach and his face buried against a pillow. He pulls his head up a little, bright blue eyes peeking up and staring at lilac curtains. Mario's eyes look Luigi up-and-down before taking his shoes off, tossing them aside.

"What..." Luigi croaks, moving himself onto his back which required alot of energy than he thought, he kicks his legs a little and Mario tightens his grip around them. "Wait...stop.." Luigi squeaks, while Mario unbottons Luigi's overalls and pulls them down, Luigi's eyes dart to Mario's hands - he's reaching over to the dresser for something. Shit, that can't be good. What now?

"We'll be heading outside later," Mario says, fiddling with whatever he's got in his hands. "I have this new thing I've wanted to try out." Mario moves to the side of the bed, playing with the razor blade in his hands. "I just want to make something _very clear_." Luigi is relived when he sees it's just a razor, a razor may not be a good thing, but he's been cut with it before (many times) and is quiet used to the feeling that it gives off.

The smile on Mario's face scares him more then usual.

"You know," He says, pulling Luigi's shirt above his head and all Luigi can see now is green fabric. "You belong to me."

Luigi doesn't respond, nor does he try to stop him. He already knows it's not worth it, he never wins.

"I mean really, you should be aware of this right about now."

_Should I be? _

Mario runs the sharp edges down towards Luigi's navel. Luigi shudders, his eyes filling with tears as his skin peels open under the razor. Luigi can feel the sharp edges forming letters.

M

A

R

I

O

He might as well brand his name on your forehead so everyone else can see.

"There we go," Mario says with a smug tone, grinning sadistically and tossing the bloody razor aside. "So now you won't forget."

* * *

Luigi follows Mario obediently to the backyard, not very willing to fight or protest or do much of anything anymore, or at least right now. Mario commanded that Luigi wait patiently while he look for something in the shed, which made Luigi slightly nervous, but he can't feel anything in his chest at all and that pretty much is the only thing that's worrying him. Well, that and this moment right here. Luigi hears Mario curse and he can see him tossing out a variety of items out of the shed that desperately needs a new paint job. Luigi hears something else, it sounds a lot like Mario rejoicing over something Luigi knows he isn't going to like.

"Alright," Mario chrips, walking back to Luigi's position and holding something behind his back. "I need you to go press yourself up on that wall overthere."

Luigi looks at him questionably, Mario smirks and leans over to kiss Luigi's nose.

"It's just some target practice."

Luigi swallows hard.

_Target practice?_

Reluctantly, Luigi walks over (slowly) towards the brown picket fence and presses his back against it, while Mario makes a joke about him getting splinters. Luigi shivers, closing his eyes and hoping he'll be without any injuries when he opens them, that's obviously not happening. Looking very much pleased, Mario pulls the string of the bow back, one eye closed and focusing his concentration on Luigi.

"Don't move!" He hisses and Luigi can't help but flinch anyway, Mario has to walk over and twist his arm to coarse him to stand still. "Don't worry, it won't hurt _that much_. Besides, you've been through much worse."

Luigi supposes that's true, maybe this won't be so bad.

_But isn't it always bad regardless?_

He closes his eyes again, Mario rises the bow, he aims, he lets go of the string holding the arrow back.

_Oh god, it stings! _

Luigi bites his bottom lip so hard to keep from screaming that it bleeds all over his chin, the sharp edge cuts through the fabric of his shirt, tearing through his skin and he could swear that he feels it touching bone. Is that even possible? Maybe the pain is just fogging up his brain.

"Hmm," Mario mumbles, hooking his thumb under his chin as if he were deep in though. "Ten points?" Why is everything just a game to him? Luigi lets out a dry cough, wincing in pain and his knees wobble.

Another arrow, this time in his leg.

"Ah!" Mario gasps, looking pleased. "Twenty points!" Luigi's eyes fall to the ground, he sees the brown dying grass stained with his blood, he can tell Mario's pulling the string back to make another shot.

"This time, a hundred points!"

Luigi can hardly mummer a 'please no—' before the arrow nails him straight in the stomach and he practically pukes out blood, in front of him, Mario's cheering. That sick bastard is _cheering_, like he's won some fucking gold medal in archery or something. Luigi can feel his eyes welling up in tears again, only mumbling a series of 'why?'_. _

"It's just punishment for your behavior last night," Mario says, his blue eyes narrowing and a mean grin on his face. "A lesson in manners."

"What did I do?" Luigi asks, pulling out every last arrow from his body and falling to his knees, head facing the ground.

"You don't think I saw you?" Mario asks, stepping in towards Luigi menacingly, grabbing him by the chin and forcing Luigi to look at him. "Practically drooling all over your shoes, all because of that _stupid whore_." Luigi's eyes widen a little, why would Mario talk about his only friend like that? "Are you in love with her or something?" Mario asks, voice dripping with disgust, Luigi shakes his head.

"N-No," He replies, tone trying it's hardest to be sweet. "There's no one I love more then you, Mario."

A smile spreads across Mario's face, looking almost touched.

"Aww, Weegee." He coos, his lips automatically connecting with Luigi's and meshing into a soft kiss.

Luigi wonders why the neighbors never see or hear any of the shit that happens to him.

* * *

Weakest ending ever.

I promise the next chapter be longer and maybe better. =\


	5. Paint It Something Tragic

C h a p t e r / F i v e

( Paint It Something Tragic )

* * *

Luigi remembers the parakeet, his aunt had bought it for him, it had green feathers with yellow tips. Although the time he spent with it was precious, the only good childhood memories that he had at all, for the life of him, he can't remember what he called it. He thinks that maybe he called it Petey, or perhaps Ronald, or maybe something else. He remembers that Mario hated that bird, so much that he threatened to shoot it with the pistol Daddy hid under his bed and cook it. Mario's main reason of wanting to mutilate the bird was because of it's chirping, but at the time Luigi's room was far from Mario's, so how could he hear it from there? The bird was never that loud and he never believed Mario when he said so, assuming that he was just jealous of it. But the fact the Mario was jealous of a bird was a strange concept, how come? It's not like Luigi spent any less time with Mario, they had already been spending every waking moment together.

He really loved that bird.

Luigi remembers the day him came home from school, Mario had already come home early, telling the teacher of some bullshit excuse to go home, Luigi remembers finding pieces of burnt feathers across the floor in front of his room. He remembers the trail of blood leading under the bed and Mario with a cruel smirk on his face. Luigi sat with his legs folded underneath him, right in front of his bed and staring at the darkness beneath it, afraid of what Mario had done. Mario was leaning against his doorway, watching him with amusement dancing in his blue eyes, he walked over and placed his hand on Luigi's shoulder. Luigi shudders under his touch.

"Where's your birdy Weegee?" Mario asks, fingers curling around Luigi's shoulder and gripping so tightly that it left ink black marks that lasted for weeks. "I don't hear it chirping, where is it?" He asks with mock curiosity and Luigi clenches his teeth together in anger and a mix of fear. Mario is the one to reach and take the small dead corpse from underneath and when he shows it to Luigi, he swings it in front of Luigi's shocked eyes. Mario drops it carelessly onto Luigi's lap, wings broken and the yellow tips burnt and it's poor beak broken, Luigi never cried so hard in his life. Mario's eyes narrow, swiping the dead bird from Luigi and holding it up by it's leg.

"Why are you crying?" He asks, growling as he asks. "It's just a bird." Luigi glares at Mario through his tears, fists clenched at his sides, anger rising up his spine and yet Luigi feels like he couldn't do anything even if he tried.

"What? Do you love that stupid bird more then me?"

Luigi's eyes soften, almost feeling guilty that Mario would even consider that.

"No, of course not—" He's saying right before Mario pounces on him and pins his wrists above his head and staring at him with intensity. Luigi squeaks a little, knowing how close their faces are now and not really realizing that this would be his first kiss.

He lost his virginity that day.

He was only fourteen.

* * *

Luigi remembers that when Mario was younger, their Father used to take Mario into his bedroom and disappear for hours. It was puzzling at first, until Luigi overheard a fight between his parents one night about it, then it all made sense. Luigi felt so sorry for him, wanting to tell someone about it and yet not having the courage after what Mario did to him. Mario didn't even really seem as traumatized by it as he should be, he once said he liked the attention and Luigi could swear that he was lying. How could it be? Mario must be hurting still, or else he wouldn't be taking it out on Luigi. He remembered the fight that he ended up starting, even though it was unintentional.

Mario was done doing his chores and putting away the laundry, while Luigi sits on the carpet, watching him intently. After staring for too long, Luigi sees Mario cringe in annoyance, he whirls around and glares at him.

"What-are-you-looking-at?" Mario asks, accenting every word and he looks vaguely murderous, Luigi is quiet for a while.

"Why don't you say anything?" Luigi asks, genuinely curious and has a sad look painted across his face. "I'm sure if you told Mom, she'd do something about it."

"Tell mom what?" Mario asks, eyebrow shooting up with interest and leans in very close to Luigi. Luigi rubs his lips together, his eyes fall to the ground and he fiddles with his fingers, nervous. "Well?"

"You know, about Dad—" Luigi never got to finish his sentence, it was a flash that went across his eyes and a second later he had his back to the floor and Mario had his hands wrapped around his neck. Squeezing tightly while Luigi desperately gasps for air.

"Shut up!" He hisses and Luigi notices the tears leaking out of Mario's eyes and it was probably the first time he ever saw Mario cry, or close to crying. "You don't know anything about that!" Luigi can feel himself crying too, he feels one of Mario's tears fall on his cheek and Mario has never looked so broken. "He loves me! Your just jealous!" He screeches and he squeezes tighter.

"Why would I be jealous of that!?" Luigi yelps back and he sees Mario's eyes widen with realization and Luigi wishes he had never said anything about it. Mario pulls away from him, foot stomping towards the door and slamming it behind him as he leaves. When Luigi thinks of those memories now, he thinks of what his Dad used to do to Mario and how Mario is now doing it to him. Luigi realizes now that it's not Mario's fault he's a monster.

Like Father, like son.

* * *

Too extreme? I dont have much to do lately so there will be more updates.


	6. What I Think Is Best

C h a p t e r / S i x

( What I Think Is Best )

* * *

Peach has stopped by for another visit, which means Luigi definatly isn't going to be violated today, not if Peach plans to join that is. _Oh god, I hope not. _It also means it's just a unfair way of giving Mario the excuse to kick Luigi's ass if he even gives her a second look. Which isn't fair, it's kind of hard _not_ to stare at Peach with her beautiful eyes and her shiny blonde hair. Luigi's gaze flutters over to the couch, in which Mario has his arm around Peach and she's staring at the television blankly. Luigi stops to admire her, but the harsh glare Mario sends towards him makes Luigi stare at the curtains instead. There's nothing else to do in the house, Mario's watching the television with her, which means Luigi isn't invited to sit down. Even if he did, it would only earn him a harsh punishment later.

Luigi fights back a shudder when he feels Mario's eyes on him, watching intently, Luigi already feels dirty. Why push it? Mario's eyes start from Luigi's shoe to stop at his _private place_ and then onto his head, and Luigi can't help but stare back. Surprised that Peach isn't noticing this, but then again Luigi seems to become completely invisible when Mario's around. Luigi narrowing her eyes slightly at a lone spider scuttling along the side of the wall, Mario's eyes are causing a huge hole to be burned in his stomach. Mario's eyes avert back to the television, which is hear playing some stupid sitcom. "Aren't you going to come too?" Peach had teased him with a small smile spread across her pretty pink lips freshly touched up with fresh layers of candyfloss lip gloss. Luigi simply shook his head, saying that he doesn't like TV. Even though that's far from the truth.

"Weegee is going to be cleaning the kitchen," Mario says, reaching over and ruffling Luigi's hair with his free hand, while his other hand is holding on to Peach's. "It's his turn to clean up after breakfast."

"But, I thought it was your turn?" Luigi protests, and he can see that was a horrible mistake because of the look in Mario's eyes. Peach pulls Mario's arm to drag him back to the living room and back onto the couch for what apparently became 'movie night'. Or something along the lines of that, because if they were to watch movies, some sort of slasher film with shrill screaming. Mario's favorite genre of movies usually consist of having someone mutilated, decapitated, or just gory. The scream is right on cue. Luigi can see him, Peach next to him, shaking in fear as she clings to his arm. Mario plaiting her hair as blood splattered across the previously blank TV screen, her shakes become more violent._ So frail, so delicate_.

Luigi sighs and goes back to washing the dishes, musing on how much his life sucks. From the living room, Peach moves towards the edge of the couch in order to get a good look at Luigi from the kitchen. She then looked at Mario with a piteous look on her face. "Why don't we invite him to come watch with us?" She asked, hands clasped together. "He looks awfully sad."

"He's fine, besides, he's going straight to bed after he's done." Mario remarks, placing a piece of popcorn into his mouth. "Besides, it'll be just us here. Which is good, right?" Peach's face flushes a bright scarlet, she nods before setting her head on his shoulder. In the meantime, Luigi finishes off by mopping up the egg that was splattered from this morning's breakfast argument off the floor, shutting off the lights and yawning loudly.

"Goodnight." Luigi calls out, voice wavering and he walks towards his bedroom, while a frenzy of shrill screaming is heard behind him from the television.

* * *

Luigi wakes up to the sound of Peach's high heels clacking into his bedroom, he drags his body up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and turning his head to look at her. What is Peach doing here? What time is it? Luigi spins his vision towards his digital clock, the green numbers say it's eight in the morning. What the hell? Peach slept over? Luigi turns back to Peach, who is smiling that beautiful, angelic smile still and she sits on the foot of the bed. She places her manicured nails onto his hand and Luigi can feel a blush creep into his cheeks rapidly.

"Morning," She says, showing a smidge of her white teeth and Luigi stares at her dumbly, at a complete loss for words. "Just wanted to say goodbye before I left." She leans in, kissing him on the cheek, and bright blue eyes darted around in search of any sign of danger. None, which is great. Now Luigi can converse freely with Peach without watchful eyes hanging over him and making him feel suffocated.

"You came in just to see me?" Luigi asks, tone soft and barley audible, he pulls his knees up to his chest and scoots forward. Needing to be close to her, everything around her is so warm, and Luigi just wants to snuggle her. She scoots a little closer to him as well, so close that her thigh is touching his feet. "Why?"

"I felt bad for leaving you all alone last night," She says, tilting her head a little to the right. "Hopefully, I'll be able to come visit you again very soon." Peach wraps her arms around Luigi, the momentary warmth of her body on his made him light-headed. She pulls away, leaving Luigi without his warmth and he thinks it's odd that he feels so empty now. She gets up, lacing her fingers together and placing them behind her head. "Well, I should get going." She says, her heels clacking towards his door and Luigi stares at her with disdain.

"Bye." He says, and she waves, wiggling her fingers in a goodbye. And if she had just given him seven more minutes, He would have figured out what those words were that he felt he really needed to say. If she had just waited one more minute. Just one small minute, he would have been able to recognize the words in the back of his throat. But she's already long gone, leaving Luigi with his resentment, and his regret, and his emptiness.

"I wish I could come with you." He mumbles sincerely, to himself.

To nothing.

* * *

Luigi is awakened again, but this time to what sounds like an angry voice, it starts off very faintly. Then it gets louder, and louder, and so loud that Luigi can feel his ears hurt to the point that they were almost bleeding. It's Mario, he already knows, he doesn't need to look. Nobody else can make so much freaking noise at this hour then him, Luigi gets up again, this time not very willingly. It takes Luigi some time to strain his ears, to hear what Mario's screaming about. Luigi hears his name mentioned, and well of course it's about him, isn't it always? Luigi gets up to his feet, shuffling towards the kitchen, and Mario's there.

"Fucking cunt bitch," Mario growls, blinded by rage and if it were possible, there would be steam coming out of his ears. Luigi cowers against the wall for a little bit, he knows that an angry Mario usually leading to bad things. Probably just pissed that he spilled coffee all over the counter again like last time? No, probably not. Luigi scans the kitchen, it's a complete mess, Mario ransacked it completely. Tearing it up out of anger, but there's no coffee, anything but coffee. But there is blood.

Lots of it. Fat red drops of ruby-red and even streams of it splattered across the floor. Mario's heavy breathing causes Luigi to peer over a little of the wall, looking closely, he can see Mario. Bent over and muttering angry things under his breath, kitchen knife tearing through his denim overalls and cutting his skin. Luigi can feel his eyes widen, almost gagging on the smell, he pinches his nose and can't pull away his gaze. Mario's breath becomes steady again, sighing as if he were relaxed, he tosses the knife aside.

"Luigi," Mario says, voice just as steady as he is, and Luigi slowly comes out of his hiding place. Eyeing Mario wearily. "You can come out, I know your there." Luigi's socks make his movements quiet, he walks towards Mario with caution. Looking at the knife next to the fridge worriedly, Mario grabs Luigi's chin, making him turn his head. "Sorry you had to see that."

_ Did he just apologize? _

Mario's eyes soften a bit, and Luigi's completely astonished at the fact that Mario is so calm now. How is it that pain calms him down? Guess he's crazier then Luigi thought. Mario stare is intense, Luigi pulls back, Mario's sudden state of calm being a lot more scary then when he's freaking out.

"Weegee," Mario says, kissing Luigi's cheek and stroking the other with his hand gently. Some of the blood is getting on Luigi's clothes and he fights back a shudder, jerking back and pressing himself against the wall. "I'm really sorry, but...I'm afraid Peach isn't going to be coming back here anymore." His tone is low, almost like it's trying to comfort him, like he actually cares and Luigi can't process what he's saying. It's all too confusing.

"W-What do you mean?" Luigi asked, now a little shaken.

Glancing down at the drops of blood, Mario said, "She has to be taken care of, I can't have her around _you_ anymore." His eyes lift, a glint of amusement in them. "It seems like you can't behave yourself around her."

Luigi's eyes widen, _he wouldn't hurt her, would he?_

"It's okay Weegee," Mario says, smiling lightly. "You won't miss her."

The look on Luigi's face terrifies him, he sinks to his knees and watch Mario walk out the front.

He's know exactly what Mario means.

* * *


	7. There’s Nothing Left For You Here

C h a p t e r / S e v e n

( There's Nothing Left For You Here )

* * *

Peach's pink heels clacked against the floor, hastily negotiating a series of black-and-white paving slabs, a pastel-painted suburbia that grew eerily dark and foreboding by nightfall; she thanked her lucky stars she knew how to run in heels without falling. Even so, she couldn't avoid stumbling on things, fear creating insurmountable objects that rose high above her head. Every step had her heart in her mouth and her ears strained to hear footsteps behind her. Her vision was hazy underneath the artificial lamplight that showered the sidewalk, tears welling up at the corners of her baby blues. She felt like collapsing, but forced her shuddering body to keep moving. Right foot, left foot, and repeat.

When did running become so hard?

Her side hurt and she felt sick, the overcast sky hung heavy at her shoulders weighting her down so she very nearly fell and couldn't get back up again. She laid there, her feet tired, and bile rising up her throat and burning like acid. The footsteps were enough to pull her upright once more, chest heaving up and down and tears slicing paths down her ivory cheeks, over the curve of her cheekbones. It was a while before her eyes adjusted, she finally realized that it was raining. Her dress began to dampen and stick to the curves of her body, draining what was left of her body heat. Her hair was matted, body trembling, shoes sliding messily against the wet sidewalk. She scrambled hurriedly back to her feet, slipping in the process, she started to run again but this time it seemed a lot harder then before.

She choked back fear as she continued to slip and slide and fall to the sidewalk, over and over again. She screamed as her leg twisted back up against the dead weight of her body, an awkward angle that her body did not approve of. Nerve endings on fire with so much pain, falling backwards with fear painted across her face – arms flailing, mouth screaming, and all _he_ could do was watch. The footsteps came closer, inside her head, under her skin, loud thunks. A noise even louder than the beat of her own heart. She desperately tried to crawl away, fingers digging into _nothing_, helplessly trying to pull herself away from the predator behind her. Her dress was completely soaked with more then just water, teeth biting at her lip as she yelped in agony, trying to inch herself forward without much luck.

She eventually gives up, her head smacking against the pavement, ready to meet her end.

The footsteps eventually come towards her, stopping at her head, and she can hear him _breathing_. It didn't take him long to come over here, did it? Peach lets out a series of 'please' and 'don't's, mixing them up and she assumed that everyone that was murdered probably used those words a lot before they died. Peach whimpers, she doesn't want to die, not yet. Mario stands before her, looking like he's waiting for something, and Peach wonders if that she screamed that anyone would hear her. Not likely, thunder is roaring in the background, and Peach's soft voice can't carry itself that far.

This is the end.

End.

She wished so much that her death would be peaceful.

"End of the road, huh?" Mario asks, grinning his sadistic grin and Peach is at a loss for words right now. He's attempting small talk? Oh god, just end it now, please. Of all the times to be nice, don't choose now, Peach realizes now why Luigi always flinches when Mario makes a sudden movement. Why didn't she see this before? Her childish infatuation with Mario clouded her judgement completely, and now it looks like it will be the end of her. "What? You don't you want to talk to me? That's mean Peach." Mario says, putting on a fake frown for a few minutes before his deranged smile comes back.

"Mario..Please, let me explain..." Peach begs, voice faltering and dying, not finding the strength in her lungs to beg anymore.

"Peach," Mario says, venom seething through her name. "There's nothing left for you to say that can fix your foolish mistake." Peach wails, Mario looks away for a minute, looking to see if there is anyone around.

No words are left, she can't say anything to save her now, not anything. She doesn't stop him as he walks behind her, Swiss army knife in hand, holding it to her pale neck.

"Say your sorry."

And softly, she did.

The end came anyway.

* * *

Luigi crawls into the living room, to weak to actually get up and walk on his feet, he walks towards the table. The telephone sitting on it idly, waiting, Luigi stops to stare at it and debates on weather or not it's worth it to call the police and potentially danger is own life in the process. He pulls himself up, balancing himself on his knees and grabbing the telephone carefully, as if it were a bomb and it would blow up if you weren't to careful with it. He places it on his lap, drumming his fingertips against the surface. He should call, but what if Mario's already _hurting_ her now? What if it's already to late? But he just left, so that wouldn't be a possibility, shouldn't, that is. The chilly thought of Mario coming back to finish him off flickered through his mind quickly, Luigi can't make up his mind, and this is the worst possible time for being indecisive.

Mario seems to have bolted the front door while he was outside, so Luigi can do everything else except for run out and scream to the neighbors for help. Not that they would do much anyway, they never have. Luigi picks up the phone, fingers trembling with fear, the whole house smells of blood. He knows, that somewhere, Peach is dead or dying. Luigi can feel tears falling from his eyes, sinking into the fabric of the carpet underneath him. He wants to save her, he really does, but the only thing stopping him from doing so is himself.

The fact that he might die too.

He's never felt so selfish.

And Peach was so sweet to him, the only one that was sweet to him, the only one he actually felt....

He needs to tell someone, he needs to save himself, he can't stay here. Not anymore, not for another year, this place will be the death of him...

There's nothing left for him here.

Mario has already taken so much from him, so much, he can't just let him take every little thing he has left. There's hardly enough.

Luigi picks up the phone, it shakes in his nervous hand, he dials the number up to the last '1'. He smacks the phone back down onto the receiver, disconnecting the phone by yanking by the cord and ultimately ended up throwing at the wall. He knows it's probably a bad idea, but he knows something that might be able to save himself after all. Even if he couldn't save Peach, he'd be able to save himself from this long nightmare. He apologizes to Peach in his prayer.

_I_'_m sorry....I wasn_'_t brave enough to die with you...._

* * *

_ sorry for all that repeating and rambling. DX _


	8. Keep Breathing, Darling

A/N: Ugh finishing this was like pulling teeth, but here it is. It really sucks, I'm sorry. But I tried.

* * *

Keep Breathing, Darling

* * *

Luigi doesn't like confrontations. The younger sibling frowned, parting his lips slightly so as to allow his teeth better access to the poor, abused digit. Most of his fingers were ruined, actually; bitten down to the quick, coated in sticky red blood like strawberry jam. His fingers were shaking as though he had arthritis, bitten nails catching a loose thread on the plush pillow on the couch. Butcher knife resting underneath his thigh. Ready for anything. Luigi's eyes stare deep into the television, even though it shows nothing but static. He can't really remember the last time when the television worked..Oh wait, last night..right before..

No, don't think about that now.

Don't think about neat gashes and knife-marks in criss-crossing spider patterns along far too pale arms and legs, one even spreading across her face from the bottom of her eye, across her nose and down to the chin. Don't think about crimson lines trickling steadily from her eye - if there was an eye anymore. Baby blue eyes popped out of their sockets by invading fingertips prying where they were not needed with far too much pressure. Skin that had been stripped from her left arm and left to hang down in tatters, exposed muscle and splintered bones protruding out at every angle imaginable.

Don't think about her, the fact that she's dead - copper red rust staining her pretty pink dress and her pretty pale cheeks. Crimson water dyed with blood trickled down from her bruised lips, empty eye, wrecked arms, down her dress - leaving a tie dye look across it.

He could only imagine.

There probably wasn't an inch of her body that wasn't that hasn't been broken, bent, burnt, stuck through with a knife, drowned in a pond or thrown down the stairs. Luigi flinched, his shoulders slumped, teeth biting his lips hard in an attempt to choke back a sob. Breathing - gulping down nausea, brain ticking like a clock as it ran through scenario after scenario, fingers clenching and running with sweat despite the cold that tugged at hair and clothes and – **creakkkk**.

The door opens slowly, a half inch from the door frame, then slams shut abruptly. Heavy footsteps are heard and Luigi squeezes his eyes shut and just tries to breathe. Fingers curl around the couch pillows nervously, the tip of the blade underneath his thigh poking him through the fabric of his jeans, he can do this - he hasn't murdered anyone before, but how hard can it be? Mario needs to pay and if this is the way it has to end, so be it.

"Heyy, your awake.." Mario says and it almost sounds like he's drunk. "How's my baby..?"

His fingers graze across the top of the couch cushion, walking around so he could take a seat next to Luigi. Luigi doesn't respond, he places his hand next to his thigh, waiting for the right moment.

"What's wrong?" Mario asks, slidding down next to him and smiling, Mario's hand creeps up and finds his way onto Luigi's hand. Luigi flinches as Mario laces their fingers together, as if this were a friendly moment between them. "You look upset."

"The television broke...." Luigi says softly, eyes glued to his other hand.

"We can always find someone to fix it," Mario says, leaning in to kiss Luigi's neck and he does nothing to stop him, he just needs him close - so he can do the damage that needs to be done, very soon. "But I feel like doing other stuff right now."

Luigi's face flushes, he knows what "other stuff" means.

"S...Sure," Luigi states, knowing that he isn't the best lair and just hoping that Mario's stupid enough to buy this. "Um, can we do it in your room?"

Mario blinks, honestly surprised and very much used to Luigi resisting, but willing Luigi is just as much as a turn on for him. Mario grins, sitting up - hand still connected to Luigi's.

"W..Wait! Uh, I..need to get something," Luigi states nervously, smacking himself onto the couch again and the knife almost ends up cutting him. "Just meet me there, please?"

Mario nods, a little confused, but he bought it and that is all that matters right now. Mario walks off into the corner where the hallway is and Luigi quickly shoves the knife into his pocket, swallowing his fear and determined. Luigi gets up, still not sure of how he's going to pull this off but he's sure that he can manage, he stops at the door. Mario's sitting down at the edge of the bed, he looks up at Luigi and pats the space next to him.

"Y'know, I've been thinking about this all day." Mario says, reaching over to pull Luigi in by the hand. Luigi ends up on Mario's lap and it feels a little uncomfortable, although he's not sure why, it's not like they haven't done this before. Mario's lips move gently against Luigi's, his eyes are closed and this looks like this might just be his chance. Luigi pushes himself against Mario's body to smack him down onto the comforter, kissing back feverishly just as a distraction. Luigi reaches over to his pocket, slowly, as Mario's hands are preoccupied by fiddling with Luigi's hair. The blade slides out without complications, Luigi's shaking hands holding it still - Mario doesn't notice, his lips are occupied as well - Luigi almost thinks that he can't do this.

But he has to.

Luigi fights back tears, for some reason, Luigi kisses harder - like it means something, but it doesn't, right? - Mario's tongue slides in and presses against Luigi's for a split second before it darts back into his own mouth.

It's then, that Mario feels a sharp pain at his side. And another, and another, and another. His vision was all of a sudden filled with red haze, he felt fast strikes repeatedly and the pain just kept getting more and more intense.

"I-I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry..!" Luigi squeaked weakly as the knife went deeper and deeper into Mario's chest.

After a while, Mario stops moving, stops breathing.

Luigi opens his eyes, vision hazy from tears streaming down his face, panting heavily. He looks down, eyes wide and body shaking completely, there's no mistaking it.

Mario's dead.

Luigi's drops the bloody blade, covering his eyes and weeping, he drops himself on the corpse - and embraces it tightly. Mario's cold, so very cold.

"I love you..." Luigi mumbles softly.

Eventually, Luigi gets up, heads to the living room - the phone lying idly on the receiver. His hands tremble, but his fingers manage to dial the number. When he gets through all he can say is: "Come quickly, someones been hurt."

Luigi goes back to Mario's room, back to Mario's bleeding and cold body, he lands on the bed next to him. His index finger curling around his hair, watching him intently, his big blue eyes are still wide open.

In a brief moment of nostalgic sentimentality, Luigi closes the corpse's eyelids. It's a meaningless gesture; the knife sticking out of his throat is his.


End file.
